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85.52% Blood Ties and Betrayal//A Severus Snape Love Story / Chapter 65: Stirred Obsession

Kapitel 65: Stirred Obsession

Bliss.

What a naive concept.

As a rule, Severus rarely hoped for it. He had felt it very few times in his childhood, perhaps only during a few nights as his mother read him pages from The Tales of Beedle the Bard as they snuggled upon his bed. Those instances were fleeting, though. Eileen would risk it for only minutes at a time while Tobias slept before the book would be hidden underneath a loose floorboard. Even as a small boy, he could sense the fear in her eyes if his father stopped snoring and turned over in his sleep.

His optimism reared its head more often after meeting Lily. Those days when he could sneak away for hours at a time to explore down by the polluted river waters with her were more magical than anything he could remember before Hogwarts. That feeling was worth the abuse he suffered at Tobias's hands when he returned home much later than was expected of him. He still had silvery scars on his back and his legs to prove that those happy memories with Lily were real.

He went whole decades without feeling it once. His Slytherin classmates offered companionship once he proved to them that he was talented and therefore useful, but they did not make him happy in the slightest. And Potter and his friends ensured that his Hogwarts education was injected with healthy doses of fear and hatred.

When his mother died, he was numb. On his school breaks, the beatings from his father couldn't even bust through the wall of paralysis that had seized his soul. The only thing that had finally returned him to the land of the living was Lily, and then he fucked it all up. She couldn't forgive him, and she abandoned him for Potter.

He expected to feel it while killing Tobias. Even as Lucius clapped him on the back and the other Death Eaters around him jeered and mocked the corpse of the Muggle that had sired him, all he could muster was a sense of accomplishment. And then the Dark Lord had seared his brand into his flesh, and all Severus knew was pain.

The next years were filled with hatred and regret and self-loathing. The only respite was the annoying dunderheads he had been roped into teaching, and although his position as Potions Master was a distraction, it did not alleviate his pessimism. The only hope of redemption lay in protecting Lily's son, but he found the boy so similar to James Potter that he could find no prospective satisfaction in that, either.

But then there was Cassie.

Her love for him was unexpected and he had yet to fully wrap his mind around it. He was not sure he ever would. There were countless moments when he said something tactless and cruel and he was certain that this was it, that she would walk away and that would be the end. That she would abandon him as Lily had. It was what he deserved.

But she was still committed to him despite his numerous offenses, wearing the necklace and ring he had given her, and currently lying on his chest as he contemplated what the future might hold. They had been engaged for less than a week, and already Severus was considering that his proposal had been a dire mistake.

The ministry was in upheaval over what had taken place at the Quidditch World Cup. No one knew who had sent the Dark Mark into the sky that night, and it was a debate if the purpose had been to drive off the Death Eaters and send them scurrying in fear that their master had truly returned or to support their atrocious activities. Arthur was keeping Severus and Cassie informed of what was taking place in London, and Fudge was scrambling.

Something sinister was brewing. The events at the World Cup might be explained away by a wizard in full-blown denial, but three nights later, Severus's left arm burned. He had only been able to hide it from Cassie for mere hours before she demanded to know what was bothering him. Damn the girl for knowing him so well. No one else would ever have suspected a thing was off with him, and he knew it.

It made him feel vulnerable. He was newly engaged to a beautiful witch that was completely in love with him, and it was ruined.

His bliss had been stolen.

Taken by unfortunate circumstances that were unavoidable and yet he cursed the fates for his rotten luck. Instead of wedding planning, the couple was wondering what the Dark Lord was up to and how quickly he would act.

Who he would kill first, and how many?

That thought would dampen anyone's celebration.

"They should cancel the Triwizard Tournament," Cassie was saying as Severus buried his nose into her hair. She smelled of lavender and lemongrass, a scent that was so familiar to him now that it was extremely comforting just to catch a whiff. As he inhaled he could feel his heart beat slow and the muscles in his jaw relax. "If they can't even get this sorted out...Sev? Are you listening?"

"Yes, my love."

"What are your thoughts?"

"I think Fudge is going to choose the most idiotic thing possible."

"You're probably right."

"You know I am," the Potions Master intoned. The witch turned in his arms so she could shoot him a look of feigned annoyance. He planted a single kiss on her nose and she broke out into giggles. Being alone together in their little cottage was akin to being in a different universe, one where pretenses no longer existed. There were moments when Severus was no longer a Potions Master or Head of Slytherin House or even defected Death Eater, but merely a man holding the love of his life against his chest. At this moment, when Cassie's blue eyes lit up with joy and melodic laughter bubbled up from her chest, she was no longer the Dark Lord's daughter and the slayer of evil witches. She was only his.

As they prepared to depart for Hogwarts and begin the new term, Severus debated asking her to stay with him in their cozy home. What harm could be done if they chose to abandon their posts? Dumbledore could find other pawns to move along his chess board, ones that were far more enthusiastic than he about sacrificing their autonomy for higher causes.

His fiance stepped up to their fireplace, readying to travel by Floo to the Three Broomsticks with her luggage in hand. Noticing his ruminant expression, she opened her mouth to inquire about his musings.

All thoughts were interrupted when a stabbing pain shot up Severus's left forearm. It caught him by surprise, and being that he was still in their cottage, he hadn't bothered to attempt to hide it. Cassie dropped what was in her grip and came to him.

"Is the pain worse?" she asked gently, reaching for him. He didn't protest as she pushed up his sleeve and examined his flesh.

"Yes," he answered truthfully, grimacing when he noticed the mark was distinctly more visible than the last time. Cassie encircled her fingers around the offending tattoo, covering it with her left hand. At first, he thought it mere coincidence that moments later his pain disappeared. When the young witch inhaled sharply, he realized too late what she had done.

Severus wrenched his arm from her hand as if she had burned him rather than absorbed his pain into her nervous system. "Idiotic girl!" he snarled at her.

She threw him an ironic smirk. "I'll take that as an expression of gratitude." His anger grew exponentially when he noticed that tears had formed in her blue eyes.

"The pain is for me alone to bear! Why you would choose to do that to yourself - "

"Because I don't particularly enjoy seeing you in pain," she replied haughtily.

"Promise me you will never do that again!"

"No."

And so their last moments in the cottage were filled with tension and mutual exasperation. Cassie ignored the looks of contempt that Severus shot her as they made their way through Hogsmeade and up to the castle.

The couple parted ways in the empty entry hall, as Cassie wanted to be sure her classroom was in order before she joined Severus in the dungeons. As she approached the tutoring chamber, she didn't expect to hear a commotion.

A loud crack was followed by a familiar, ethereal cackle. She opened the door to find Peeves hurling a jar of sparkling quartz at Filch's head, and the old caretaker barely dodged it.

"Peeves!" he wheezed, pointing a gnarled finger at the laughing poltergeist, "I'll tell the headmaster, I will!"

"Oooh, going to tattle, Argie?" Peeves taunted. "Not nice to threaten! Maybe I'll tell him you let that old one-eyed geezer in!"

Cassie, who had been intending to tell Peeves off, frowned in confusion. "Mad-Eye is here?" Filch and Peeves both turned to stare at her, caught off guard by her abrupt arrival. The poltergeist swooped out of the room, laughing louder than ever as Filch was left alone to answer Cassie.

"He wanted to inspect the classrooms before term started, make sure nothing is amiss," Filch explained, the color draining from his face.

"I don't see him in my classroom." Cassie realized it could only mean one thing -

"Everything looks in order," came Moody's gruff voice as he exited her chambers. She folded her arms over her chest as she eyed the older wizard in disapproval.

"You felt the need to go through my rooms, Moody?"

"Best to ensure the safety of the castle before the students arrive," he responded gruffly, his uneven gaze traveling over her before his false eye resumed zooming around in all directions.

"I'm capable of making sure my quarters are secured, I assure you," she said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Or have you forgotten my capabilities since we last worked together?" Moody was silent as she waved her hand over the mess that Peeves had made. The jar repaired itself and the glittering, bronze-colored stones nestled themselves back into place.

"I may be retired," the ex-Auror finally said, "but if memory serves me right, you had a Death Eater under your nose until the end of last term. No?"

He and Filch left her chambers before she could think of an adequate response. They must have been in a hurry so they could break into some other unsuspecting staff's personal space. For the first time since learning of Moody's appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, she felt annoyed with the idea.

Cassie spent the remainder of the day in the dungeons with Severus. She had hoped for a few quiet hours with him before they were expected in the Great Hall, but various members of the Hogwarts staff had other ideas. Professor Flitwick was the first to journey down to the Potions classroom to congratulate his newly betrothed colleagues, and he was soon followed by Professors Sinistra, Sprout, and Burbage.

"Minerva must be announcing it to everyone she meets in the corridors," Severus said through clenched teeth as Charity pulled Cassie into a tight hug.

"Oh, no," the Muggle Studies professor said, beaming at the Potions Master over Cassie's shoulder. "Hagrid told Aurora and she told me. I believe Hagrid is on his way now with a plate of rock cakes and sparkling beet wine."

Not one of the students would have believed that the cold, dark classroom had been the sight of a staff party the day before term. Hagrid had indeed provided multiple jugs of wine that he had procured from Madam Rosmerta, and many of the professors were filling tipsy as they walked to the Great Hall together for the start of term feast. The only ones that had been missing were the headmaster and Moody, and Cassie could only assume the latter had still been busy snooping through classrooms.

This year's start-of-term feast was certainly one to remember. After the first years were sorted and settled, Dumbledore broke the news to the student body: there would be no Inter-House Quidditch Cup, and the Triwizard Tournament would be hosted at Hogwarts this year. Cassie could see the determination on some of the sixteen-year-old students' faces as they began to brainstorm ideas to age themselves up. She knew she would have to keep a close eye on Fred and George, especially with the way they were chattering so excitedly between each other now. As she watched them, she could feel eyes on her. She moved her gaze over to the Slytherin table where Draco sat. He was enthralled in deep conversation with Blaise Zabini and was paying her no mind. On instinct, she turned next to her right, where Severus was speaking to Minerva. Three seats down, she spotted the source of her uneasiness. Moody's normal eye was staring directly at her while his electric blue one scanned over the student tables. She gave him a small smile, and he turned away without further acknowledgment.

"Absolutely maddening," Severus was muttering as they left the feast with full bellies and heavy eyelids.

"Care to elaborate?"

"The Triwizard Tournament. Merlin knows the students will think of little else until the champions are decided," he explained irritably as they descended the dungeon staircase. "I would prefer not to start the term with such a frivolous distraction."

"Sure."

Severus raised an eyebrow at her. "Perhaps the prospect of Triwizard Champions has you distracted."

"It's not that," she huffed. She waited until they were in his classroom and behind a closed door before she continued. "It's Moody. Does he seem a bit...odd?"

She was met with a bemused look from Severus. "Is this your attempt at a trick question?"

"In a different way, I mean. He was abrasive when I arrived at my classroom earlier, and he keeps watching me."

"Moody has a reputation for being suspicious."

"Yes, but he knows me, Sev. We worked side by side in South America. The way he was staring at me was like he was waiting for me to make a wrong move."

"Perhaps you are worried about someone finding out about your...activities... outside of Hogwarts," Severus said softly.

"Maybe," she said, shaking her head as if the action would untangle her jumbled thoughts. "But he had Filch unlock the door to my quarters - "

"What?"

"Apparently my letting Peter Pettigrew go undetected for so long has hurt his trust in me," she said with a defeated sigh. "Or maybe Dora has said something to him. She has been rather cross with me."

"Going through your quarters is unacceptable!"

"I don't disagree with you, Sev," she replied. "But in the grand scheme of things, what does that detail matter? We both know I pretty much live in your quarters anyway, and it's not like I have anything to hide."

"It's the principle. What right does he have, coming into this castle to go through your belongings? You should go to the headmaster at once!"

She was mulling over his advice when a knock came at the classroom door. Not waiting for an invitation, Draco entered. He was carrying a square package wrapped in silver and green paper.

"Hello, cousin," he greeted Cassie dully. With a bit more vehemence, he turned to his Head of House. "Good evening, Professor Snape."

"Mr. Malfoy," Severus intoned, taking a seat behind his desk. "How was the remainder of your summer holiday?"

The young Slytherin shrugged. "Boring, besides the World Cup, of course."

"Oh? Did your father have such riveting stories to tell you?" Cassie asked snidely before she could stop herself. A tense silence filled the dungeon classroom for a few moments as Severus shot her a disparaging glare. Guilt blossomed in her stomach when she saw the look of anguish on her younger cousin's face.

"I'm sorry," said Cassie.

"I don't want to talk about it," Draco snapped.

"It's nearing curfew," Severus interjected, sensing the rising strain between the two cousins. "What is the reason for your visit, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Mother and Father wish to congratulate you on your engagement," said Draco, his narrowed eyes leaving Cassie's face as he placed the package on the Potions Master's desk.

"That's very kind of them," said Severus.

"Father wishes to share a celebratory drink with you soon."

Cassie cleared her throat. "Tell them - "

"Mother would adore a letter from you," drawled her cousin. "Tell them yourself." He turned and left the classroom, shutting the door with an unnecessarily loud slam.

"It's probably a Howler in a fancy package," muttered Cassie as she eyed the gift from Lucius and Narcissa.

"That would be uncharacteristically uncouth."

"You unwrap it, then," she said, sitting on the edge of Severus's desk. With a loud sigh, he pulled the gift toward him and began to rip the shiny paper. Cassie watched with bated breath as he exposed a handsome silver trinket box, expecting to see something sinister when he opened it.

"The Black family sigil," Severus noted softly. Cassie peered into the trinket box to see a silver badge engraved with a skull and ravens. The dim candlelight bounced off the skull's cheekbones just right, giving Cassie the impression it was smirking at her.

"Why would they give this to us?" she snapped. She slammed the lid shut so quickly that Severus flinched.

"Perhaps Narcissa thought it would be a warm gesture," he offered. He didn't seem to believe his statement, however, and pushed the entire package further down the desk to not further irritate his fiance.

"Hardly!" Cassie removed herself from the Potions Master's desk. "It belonged to my mother. Do they really expect you to bear a family heirloom that says 'Toujours Pur'?" She headed through his office and toward Severus's private quarters, her anger palpable in her wake.

"What would you like me to do with it, my love?"

"Toss it into the fire, for all I care," she said with a nonchalant wave of her hand. After she disappeared across the threshold and started to get undressed for the night, Severus stood. He went into his office and hid the silver badge in one of his most secure hiding places, a trick drawer under his desk that could only be revealed with the most specific of spells. Once he was satisfied that it was stowed away safely, he joined his betrothed in a warm, lavender-scented bath.

The next morning at breakfast, Cassie was enjoying her first bite of bacon when a handsome ural owl landed on her plate. It held out its leg in front of Severus, who was currently negotiating the care of this season's crop of alihotsy with Professor Sprout. Cassie carefully untied the golden scroll from the owl's leg and after offering the bird a slice of bacon, sent it on its way.

"Sev," said Cassie, nudging her fiance with her elbow as she lifted her coffee mug to her lips. She made extra effort not to look towards Moody's spot. If he was staring again, she would rather not know.

The line between Severus's eyebrows deepened as he read the letter. Cassie was about to inquire who it was from when another owl, this time a honeycomb-colored one, landed. The Prince family crest was hanging around the bird's neck.

"You have another," she told Severus, but he thrust the mail in her hands after glancing at it.

"It's addressed to you," he replied dismissively.

"Me?" she wondered allowed.

Darragh Prince had written her. After hearing the news of her engagement to Severus, he questioned if she truly had her heart set on marrying him, or if this was some sort of ploy to get his attention. The very idea sent Cassie into a fit of laughter that startled Darragh's owl, causing it to hoot and knock over Minverva's coffee cup. The commotion caught the attention of many of the students, who were watching as the staff tried to reestablish order at their table. Cassie, still unable to stifle her giggles, snorted as she glanced at the carefully scribed words again. Students pointed and jeered as Severus attempted to soothe the irritated animal and McGonagall whipped out her wand to clean up the mess.

Minutes later, as everyone was exiting the Great Hall to head to their first classes, Cassie found out what was in Severus's letter.

"Karkaroff has proposed that I take a temporary apprentice," he told her.

"An apprentice? Does Durmstrang not employ a qualified Potions Master?"

"Obviously, not qualified enough. The apprentice he is proffering has long surpassed their master's abilities." Severus's eyes narrowed slightly, and Cassie followed his gaze. Moody was watching them from his seat.

The conversation only continued once the couple was out in the entrance hall and out of Moody's scrutinizing presence. "Will you have time to take on an apprentice?"

Severus looked contemplative. "While the concept of having to look after one all term seems tiresome, having a capable aide may prove useful. I may need help with the Antecessoris potion, not to mention I have an abnormally large number of seventh years that have made it to NEWT level."

Cassie rolled her eyes, pushing aside the fact that he still didn't consider her a capable potions aide. "Severus, when are you going to tell me more about - " Moody had exited the Great Hall. She couldn't put her finger on it, but her gut told her she didn't want Moody overhearing sensitive information. At least, not until he started acting somewhat normal toward her. With the way he was looking at her now, he was far from it. It was like he was silently accusing her of something.

"Never mind," Cassie told Severus quietly. She stood on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek, then headed to the Transfiguration classroom to help McGonagall with her fifth years.

Severus went down to the dungeons. He would be teaching the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw second years their first lesson of the term, and he expected the next two hours to go as smoothly as one could hope for, considering one half of the class was considerably more capable than the other. He had taught the Fever-reducing Potion so many times that he could recite each ingredient and step during even his worst nightmare. Only a few hours, and he would be in the Great Hall beside his fiancee again. Moody was acting strangely, but that was to be expected; at least Lupin wasn't employed at Hogwarts any longer. Perhaps this year could be significantly better than the last. Severus partially believed that as he began the lesson, and his second years even noticed that his temperament was a bit lighter than what they were used to. One Hufflepuff witch even dared to ask the Head of Slytherin about his engagement, and he didn't assign her detention.

Elsewhere in the castle, many floors above the potions lesson that was going surprisingly well, the wizard masquerading as Alastor Moody was instructing third years on the importance of recognizing vampires. At first, the young witches and wizards were leery of their new professor, but quickly found to be him knowledgeable and even somewhat approachable. As the end-of-lesson bell sounded, the students left the classroom in excited chatter. The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom soon filled with fifth-year Slytherin and Gryffindors, and Crouch informed them that he would be teaching them all about the Unforgivable Curses.

He was partially grateful that he was tasked with the distraction of teaching these young minds about such wonderful dark magic. Since his master had freed him, obsession had ruled his very existence. Now that he was in the same castle with the object of his preoccupations, the intensity was growing tenfold.

The first was Harry Potter. His master had commanded that he keep tabs on the boy and do everything in his power to keep him alive until the precise moment he could be used. He was honored to have been charged with such a crucial task. He would not fail his lord, of that he was sure.

The second, however, was born out of his inclination.

Without a proper and constant distraction, Barty Crouch Jr. frequently found his thoughts straying to Cassiopeia Black. His master had expressed his profound disappointment in his heir's alignment with Albus Dumbledore, and that alone was enough to drive Crouch to hate her. How dare she turn her back on the Dark Lord and take for granted that she was sired by the greatest wizard that had ever lived! How could she be swayed by the light side so easily, and for what? To take orders from Mudblood-loving professors, befriend blood traitors, and sleep in a castle that wasn't hers.

He had only just found out that she had betrothed herself to Severus Snape. His master would be livid that his offspring had tainted her precious bloodline with a traitorous half-blood. He expected that the Dark Lord would order them both to be executed.

The idea of carrying out such an order drove Crouch mad with blood lust. The Dark Lord did not yet know of Snape's intention to marry Cassiopeia and Crouch would not dare attack either of them without express permission, but he could gather more information. For that, he was hopeful for the reward of at least torturing the unworthy wizard who dared to bed the Dark Lord's precious daughter.

Another lesson proved to be a suitable distraction until the lunch hour arrived. Instead of eating, Crouch tracked the Potions Master through the entrance hall and across the grounds. He wondered what Cassiopeia found so appealing about the former Death Eater that was currently in his sights. He had his talents, even the Dark Lord had admitted that in the past, but what else did the half-blood wizard have to offer a witch in such standing? He was pasty and thin, and his long black curtain of hair was a sad attempt to hide that unsightly face. He did not possess a fortune or an estate. He did not command power within the ministry or in pureblood society. He had betrayed the Dark Lord and abandoned his former ways, instead choosing to bask in Dumbledore's stench and reap the pitiful rewards.

Snape would pay, and Crouch would make sure of it.

He made the silent vow to himself just as the Potions Master reached the gamekeeper's cabin. Crouch slipped into the Forbidden Forest, the stolen fake eye ensuring his privacy as he propped himself up against a gnarled tree to observe. A dense mist had enveloped the grounds, but he could still make out each figure that moved about the dewy grass. He would not miss a single detail.

Cassiopeia exited the cabin, followed by the half-giant. They were caught up in some vapid conversation by the looks of it, and the young witch was laughing as the half-giant spoke. She reached for Snape's hand as she listened to Hagrid yammer on and Snape grasped it as if the action were second-nature. Indignation rose in Crouch's chest as the gorgeous young witch poisoned herself further in the company of a half-breed.

She leaned her body into the half-blood traitor as his arm snaked around her waist. A loud growl of disgust left Crouch's throat.

He reached into his robes and produced a flask filled with Polyjuice Potion. In one loud slurp, he downed enough to ensure his appearance as Moody would remain.

Snape announced that he and Cassiopeia would be heading back up to the castle to have lunch. They parted ways with the half-breed, but the Potions Master had lied. He led Cassiopeia to the Black Lake instead of going back to the Great Hall. Crouch kept his distance, remaining in the tree line as much as he could as he watched them on their leisurely stroll, but they were always in his sight.

When they were on the far end of the lake, Snape dared to kiss her. His spidery hands gripped her face and he pulled her up against his skinny body. She mewled in pleasure, like the shameless slut that she was, and rubbed herself against him.

Heat formed in Crouch's face and in his groin. He was enraged at their unnatural display, but there was something instinctual guiding his actions. A feral need compelled him to undo the notch on his belt and shove a hand into his trousers.

Snape dug his feculent fingers into Cassiopeia's shoulders, forcing her backward until she was up against a nearby tree. She looked up at the Potions Master, struggling to control her breathing as his hands disappeared under her skirt. Crouch's fingers encircled his growing erection as his breath came out in short bursts.

How could she allow Snape to desecrate her in such a way? Would she not prefer a pureblood, a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, someone loyal to the Dark Lord?

Now Crouch imagined himself in Snape's place. The very thought of standing between the witch's thighs and holding her against his aching groin was sending him over the edge. Then her hands were clasped together behind the Potions Master's head, her arms encircling his neck in a vice-like grip as he impaled her against the tree trunk. She moaned without restraint as he moved inside her.

In a few strokes, hot semen was shooting into Crouch's hand and staining the inside of his boxers.

The couple was still lost to their passion as his labored breathing began to still. Ashamed, he cleaned himself with a quick wave of Moody's wand. He surveyed them with one last longing glance, and, growing irate as ever with the current state of things, stormed off for the castle.

Severus Snape would pay. He would be sure of it.


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